


Just Another Part of the Dream

by ClownheadMcFucker



Category: Thir13en Ghosts (2001)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Crying, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Stretching, Touch Denial, Touch-Starved, a really poor excuse for aftercare lol, dubcon, mentions of fisting and object insertion but neither of those things actually happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownheadMcFucker/pseuds/ClownheadMcFucker
Summary: Dennis lay face up on one of Cyrus’ many plush, oversized beds. Nude, bound, and thoroughly blasted on whatever new pill blend Cyrus had supplied him with to help deal with the more negative effects of his abilities.Oversized sex toy fucking ensues.
Relationships: Dennis Rafkin/Cyrus Kriticos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Just Another Part of the Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is like exactly the same as my last Dennis/Cyrus fic but like ... worse lol.  
> Dubcon warnings for some ill-intentioned thoughts from Cyrus and because Dennis is under the influence of drugs and kind of emotionally fraught during sex. Please don’t read if you think it might make you uncomfortable or upset!  
> That being said, Hope you Enjoy!

Dennis lay face up on one of Cyrus’ many plush, oversized beds. Nude, bound, and thoroughly blasted on whatever new pill blend Cyrus had supplied him with to help deal with the more negative effects of his abilities. 

Dennis’ hands were bound at the wrist with arms loose, his calves tightly bound to his thighs with a taught spreader bar between his ankles. The farther apart Cyrus could get his legs, the better, to prevent him from having to touch Dennis physically to keep him spread open. 

Dennis trusted Cyrus to make sure to avoid even the slightest cool brush of his expensive silver wristwatch against his bare skin. Though Cyrus would be lying if he’d said the evil thought of breaking that trust hadn’t occurred to him once or twice when Dennis was at his mercy like this. 

Would it be worth it to trigger a psychic episode in Dennis, to watch him seize up right there on the bed, just to place a hand over his skinny little stomach? 

To feel the pressure of the large plug currently inside him? 

No, it probably wouldn’t be worth it. 

Cyrus could claim it an accident, but Dennis wouldn't buy it, even if it were. 

A moment of power over Dennis wasn’t worth losing access to the power that Dennis possessed. Very helpful spiritual power. 

Cyrus couldn’t even imagine what their encounters must be like from Dennis’ perspective. For Cyrus, fully clothed and in control as he was now, to remain untouched by a sexual partner it was a choice; it was another form of power, but for Dennis to remain untouched… 

it must be hell. 

Dennis’ lack of experience with being touched by actual flesh made him incredibly sensitive, something the drugs amplified. Even the slightest movement of the toy inside him had him writhing like it was the best thing he’d ever felt. The drugs had the funniest effect on his emotions too, Cyrus thought. He was currently grinning, in a spaced-out sort of way, but had been crying for a few good minutes too. 

Cyrus removed the plug which had been in Dennis for quite some time, creating both a satisfying popping sound as well as a rather loud yelp from Dennis. Cyrus began replacing the plug slowly with a particularly large and riveted dildo, watching each rivet (larger than the last) slip into him with trained ease. 

He had been delighted to discover how receptive Dennis had been to size training, stretching him a bit further with each of the sexual encounters they’d had since he first made contact with Dennis. It was truly unfortunate that he couldn’t fist Dennis, but he made do with what _could_ be done to him. 

Beside Cyrus was an array of carefully chosen sex toys, ranging in size but all still alarming large for someone unaccustomed to such play. Along with a small towel, a bottle of lubricant, and a hand mirror. 

Dennis drooled into the pillow now. With his bound hands over his stomach, he rubbed his leaking cock with the back of his fingers, not seeming to have the current motor-function to properly grasp it in his hands. Lazily rolling his hips as Cyrus pushed and pulled the large toy in and out of him. He loved to watch Dennis’ stomach flatten and distend around the large toy as it moved inside of him. 

A steady moan escaped Dennis, toes and fingers occasionally clenching and unclenching. Unfocused eyes fluttering. 

He was getting close. 

Cyrus removed the toy completely in a single swift motion, yielding a sound from Dennis that seemed both relieved and disappointed. 

“My my, quite the progress since our first time together. Would you like to see?” 

“Nno-no,” Dennis slurred, shaking his head. 

“Look.” Cyrus held the small mirror directly in Dennis’ line of sight, he wouldn’t even need to crane his neck to see the state of his body. 

Dennis’ mouth O-ed at the sight of his gaping asshole on the mirror surface, like a little tv screen. It twitched with each sharp intake of his breath and seemed large enough to easily admit a baseball. He imagined Cyrus’ fist sliding right in. 

“You open up so easily for me. How badly you must wish I could stick my cock in your slack hole,” Cyrus said, pressing down on Dennis’ erect penis with a wand vibrator, causing him to thrash wildly. 

Dennis cried out in his already hoarse voice while attempting to twist his body away from the overwhelming sensation. Cyrus moved the vibrator lower, pushing just under Dennis’ balls and against his perineum. 

“Poor thing, you’re so terribly empty, do you wish it was my cock fucking you right now?” He touched the toy to the very rim of Dennis’ asshole. 

“Yes, oh yes I do, I do, I do” 

“How badly do you wish I could touch you?” 

“So bad, so bad, oh god-” tears were streaming down Dennis’ face, his words barely intelligible. “I want you so bad, Cyrus, I want you-” 

He gasped sharply as he came, hips rising off the bed, slowly his face cleared of expression as he sunk back down and drifted into unconsciousness, the orgasm taking the last bit of exhausted energy he had. 

He awoke later in the evening from a few hours of dream-addled sleep, sweaty and sticky beneath the blanket but at least with his restraints courteously removed. He felt a little dehydrated, but mostly clear-headed. As he gulped some lukewarm water from the nightstand, he realized he was unable to distinguish between the hazy memories of sex and the events of his dreams. 

Distorted images, vague sounds, and ... a fleeting feeling of Cyrus gently petting his head. 

He let the empty glass fall onto the bed with him as he rolled over. Laughing to himself quietly as shut his eyes again, _Cyrus petting his head._ Surely _that_ must be part of the dream.


End file.
